


Mine, Yours, Ours

by orphan_account



Category: One Direction (Band), Shawn Mendes (Musician)
Genre: (she is not present in the fic though), Dad Harry, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Other, Teenager Shawn, This did not go as planned, but have it anyway, dad niall
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-15
Updated: 2018-11-15
Packaged: 2019-08-24 03:24:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16631978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Niall is Shawn's step-dad, but he's ready to meet his biological father.





	Mine, Yours, Ours

**Author's Note:**

> FOR SHIRLEY. happy birthday, binch. love you.
> 
> huge thank you to my boo thang for reading every version of this i threw at you, u da real mvp. and to the gc for listening to me whine about finishing this on time and helping out.
> 
> it's not exactly what we all planned, but uh. It's Still Good? i hope.
> 
> **EDIT: i think i fixed the format on this but if there are anymore mistakes i am Sorry.

He hesitates to tell Niall, to bring it up at all. Shawn doesn’t want to hurt Niall’s feelings, is the thing. He knows Niall would never be mad at him for it. Shawn just feels a little bit guilty though, for not telling him, so he finally blurts it out at dinner one night.

“Dad,” he says, cutting off Niall’s story about that time he and Willie went to Ireland.

(Shawn’s heard the story about a million times now, but he doesn’t mind hearing about his dad’s supposed “homeland”.)

“Yes?”

Shawn licks his lips and clears his throat. He finds that he can’t look Niall in the eye, so he looks at the wall behind Niall’s shoulder and hopes for the best.

“I want to meet my other dad. My--my birth father.”

Niall’s eyes go a little wide from the outburst, but then his expression sobers and he kinda smiles ruefully. “Was waiting for this day to come,” he sighs.  
  
“You were?” Shawn asks cautiously, eyes fleeting towards Niall’s briefly.  
  
Niall nods. “Your mom told me you’d bring it up again eventually, that you’d talked about it before I was around.” Shawn looks down, breaking eye contact and shifting in his seat, but Niall quickly says, “Hey, no, don’t do that. It’s okay. I understand, alright?”  
  
Shawn bites the inside of his cheek, glancing up a little. “You’re not upset?”  
  
“No,” Niall assures. “Why on earth would I be upset, Shawn?”  
  
“Well,” Shawn hedges, shifting in his chair, “You’re my dad, but. He’s my _dad_ -dad.”  
  
Niall smiles again. “It’s perfectly normal to want to know who your biological father is,” he says calmly. “I’d never be mad about you wanting that either. It would be incredibly selfish of me.”  
  
Shawn swallows. “Thanks, pop.”  
  
“She’d want you to meet him, too,” Niall adds softly.  
  
Shawn pretends his eyes aren’t misty, swiping at them quickly and clearing his throat, smiling gratefully when Niall changes the subject.

 

\----

  
  
The next time Shawn asks Niall about it, Niall says he knows the guy’s name. Shawn’s dad is Harry Styles.

Harry Styles is 32 and owns a record shop an hour and a half away in San Francisco. Shawn finds this out from Facebook, sitting at his desk and staring unblinkingly at the profile for several moments until he finally has to close out of the browser entirely.

Niall tells him they can plan a day trip the following weekend, if Shawn wants to. And... Shawn wants to, but. Now it’s real. It’s nearly tangible. His heart races and his hands shake because his biological father is _real_ and so close and Shawn is gonna _meet_ him.

Harry’d moved away not long after he and Shawn’s mom started dating, Niall says, so he never knew about having a kid. That makes Shawn pause, makes him wonder if it would be fair to go after him now.

 

\----

  
  
“It’s completely up to you, son,” Niall says, squeezing Shawn’s shoulder. “You don’t have to tell him he’s your dad, at least not right away.”  
  
“No, I—I have to tell him. I’ve waited my whole life,” Shawn replies in earnest.  
  
“Okay,” Niall nods. “I support you in this, alright? I’ll be beside you the whole way.”  
  
Shawn hugs him tight. “Thank you.”  
  
“Hey,” Niall murmurs, gripping Shawn’s shoulders and trying to catch his gaze. “We don’t have to go just yet. We can wait.”  
  
Shawn nods, a little too fast, reaching up to hold on to Niall’s wrists. “Yeah, I—that would probably be better.”  
  
“Okay. That’s okay, it’s fine,” Niall assures. “You just let me know when you’re ready.”  
  
So they wait. And wait...

But the longer they wait, the more Shawn questions whether or not he should really meet this guy, if he should completely flip his world upside down. This is a big deal, like, _huge_. Shawn almost feels selfish for wanting to meet him. Logically, he knows it’s not. He has a right to find his biological father. It’s just… What if…

Niall picks up on Shawn’s emotions, like he always does. Lets him feel them and process them, then confronts him.  
  
“Hey,” Niall says, knocking on Shawn’s bedroom door.  
  
Shawn pauses the movie he’d been half-watching. “Yeah?”  
  
“Just wanted to come check on you,” Niall says. “Haven’t really been yourself lately.”  
  
Shawn shrugs, looking away.  
  
Niall sighs, stepping into the room and pulling out the desk chair to sit down. “Shawn, you can’t let your mind talk you out of doing this.”

It’s quiet, only the wind outside filling the air for a few seconds.  
  
“What if he wants nothing to do with me?” Shawn finally mutters, picking at a loose thread on his comforter.  
  
“I'm not gonna lie to you and say that that’s not a possibility,” Niall replies carefully. “But son, the only way you’ll find out is by going. I think you should at least try.”  
  
“But—“ Shawn starts, is cut off by Niall’s raised hand.  
  
“I'm not going to make you go if you _really_ don’t want to,” Niall says. “I would never do that. I just don’t want you to regret _not_ meeting him. You are old enough to make this decision on your own, though. And I won’t try to sway you either way.”  
  
Shawn is quiet for a moment, then, “Have I told you how much of a great dad you are?”  
  
Niall’s chin wobbles as he ducks his head. “And you’re a great son. That won’t _ever_ change. Alright?” He looks back up and sees the relief on Shawn’s face and meets him halfway to a hard embrace. “Love you, son.”  
  
“Love you, too, pop,” Shawn rasps.

 

\----

 

They arrive in San Francisco that weekend. Shawn bounces his knee anxiously the whole drive up, and Niall tries his best to distract him; it doesn’t help much. Niall had asked if he wanted to wait until the next day to see Harry, if he would want to explore San Francisco and see the sights first, but Shawn is adamant that they _get it over with_. He doesn’t want to lose his nerve, he says. Niall doesn’t try to change his mind.

They stand outside the shop for a moment, staring up at the sign that reads _Vinyl Richie_ , and Niall snorts, breaking the silence.

“What?” Shawn asks, curious.

“Nothing, it’s just. That’s quite the pun,” Niall says, huffing a laugh.

Shawn looks back up at it with a smile. “I like it,” he murmurs.

A bell jingles above their heads as they walk in. The speakers are playing Crosby, Stills, and Nash as Shawn’s gaze wanders all over the room, taking in every inch of the vintage posters lining the walls, the racks upon racks of records, the smell of the candles burning by the register. He tries to keep an eye out for Harry as well.

(Shawn had been more shocked than warranted when he’d seen Harry’s profile picture on facebook and noticed how much they looked alike. It’s his _dad_ , of course they’d look alike, he’d told himself. It was just a little jarring, is all.)

The shop is cooler than Shawn anticipated. He isn’t sure what he was expecting, really, but its… eclectic. Just thinking that word makes Shawn feel pretentious.

“Hello! Welcome to Vinyl Richie, I’ll be right with you!” a voice calls from the back, shaking Shawn from his thoughts.

Shawn panics a little, wondering if it’s Harry and turns to find Niall, but he’s standing right behind Shawn, already reaching up to squeeze his biceps reassuringly.

“You’ve got this, okay? I'm right here,” Niall says for the hundredth time that day. Shawn nods, swallows. “Breathe. Let’s just browse for now, yeah? I could expand my record collection a bit,” Niall muses.

That makes Shawn roll his eyes. “You’ve got like, a million already. I don’t think there are any records left for you to buy.”

“Well, I certainly hope there are,” that same voice from before jokes. “I wouldn’t be in business otherwise.”

Shawn nearly swallows his tongue, can feel his eyes get wide, shoulders drawing up. Niall smiles encouragingly, nodding and nudging him to turn around.

With his heart in this throat, Shawn follows Niall’s instruction, slowly turning until he’s face to face with Harry. With his _dad._

“What the fuck,” Shawn breathes.

“Hey,” Niall chastises, “Language.”

Harry’s smile broadens in amusement. “What can I help you with today?”

“Uh.” Shawn feels like he’s gonna throw up. “I'm—I mean, you… Um.”

Harry tilts his head, curious, and maybe a little concerned.

“Shawn,” Niall says, poking him in the back.

“Oh, uh, sorry,” Shawn stutters, jolting into action. He blinks quickly and fidgets in place. “I'm Shawn. This is my dad, Niall,” he finally gets out, pointing over his shoulder at Niall.

“Nice to meet you, Shawn,” Harry replies easily, shaking the hand Shawn held out, nodding curtly to Niall. “I'm Harry.”

“Yeah, I…” Shawn trails off, looking back at Niall again.

Niall rolls his eyes, smiling, and says, “We’ve come this far, bud. Go for it.”

When Shawn turns back though, he still can’t seem to just _say it_. Instead, what comes out is, “So. Records.” Harry’s lips pull up in the corners ever so slightly, one of his eyebrows twitching. Shawn knows he must be holding back laughter. He appreciates that. “You know, for a long time, that’s all he’d let me listen to,” he says, pointing his thumb over his shoulder at Niall.

Harry follows Shawn’s thumb, letting an eyebrow raise in silent question. Niall shrugs with a half smile.

“I didn’t mind it, to be honest,” Shawn continues, rambling to fill the void of conversation. “There’s nothing quite like the sound of the needle dropping and the music starting. Plus, all the classics sound better on record players. Did you know that--”

“I don’t mean to be rude, it’s just you look familiar,” Harry cuts in. “Have we met?”

The words die on Shawn’s tongue. Why is his mouth so _dry_ all of the sudden? Is the air on in this building? He’s feeling a bit warm. A poke at his back reminds him that Niall is right there and he releases a breath.

Shawn meets Harry’s gaze, squares his shoulders. “ _We_ haven’t, but you knew my mother.”

“Did I? What’s her name?” Harry questions, leaning his elbows on the counter separating them.

“Samantha,” Shawn says, then adds, “Mendes.”

Harry’s face lights up. “Samantha! Wow, I do know her. My god, it must have been, what, fifteen or sixteen years since I saw her. How is she?”

Shawn clears his throat, averts his gaze. “She’s, uh. She passed away last year.”

“Oh god, I'm so sorry,” Harry breathes, expression guilty.

Shawn shakes his head. “No, you didn’t know, it’s fine. I just, um. I wanted to meet you.”

“Meet _me_?” Harry replies, eyebrows flying into his hairline, confused. “Why’s that?”

“Well, I—I'm.” It’s like he can’t form real words. His brain isn’t functioning. “You…”

Niall places his hand on Shawn’s shoulder. “I'm his _step_ -dad.”

Harry continues to look between them in utter bewilderment, the cogs turning his mind almost physically visible until his face begins to clear, and he goes a bit pale.

Shawn shifts uneasily where he stands, shoving his hands in his pockets. “You moved away before she found out that she was…” Shawn trails off. He clears his throat. “And then she didn’t want you to like, feel obligated or whatever.”

The silence drags on for what feels like ages, and the longer Harry doesn’t say anything, the more Shawn feels like he’s made a mistake.

“I'm your…” Harry starts, his voice breathless and raspy, hands holding on to the counter, knuckles white. “You’re my—my _kid_ ? My son? I have a _son_?”

He doesn’t exactly sound happy, and Shawn’s heart sinks. He feels nauseous again.

“I'm sorry,” he whispers, fighting back unwanted tears.

Harry looks him in the eye then. “What? Why are you sorry?”

“For just… dropping this on you. Out of nowhere,” Shawn mutters. “I shouldn’t have come.”

“Shawn,” Niall says, reaching out to him.

“Can we please just go home, dad?” Shawn asks, already walking towards the door.

He sits in the car by himself for a few minutes, wiping at his eyes in frustration. Shawn’s not sure why he’s suddenly wishing he’d stayed home, why it hurt so much when Harry was silent for so long, like he wasn’t sure he could believe it. Shawn knew there was a chance that Harry wouldn’t like the news. But seeing Harry’s reaction, his disbelief, hurt more than Shawn anticipated.

Niall returns to the car then, looking contrite. He doesn’t start the car right away.

“Please, dad,” Shawn whispers when Niall goes to speak.

Niall sighs, but he doesn’t push anything. “Do you want to go to the pier?” He asks instead. “We haven’t been in a few years.”

“Whatever,” Shawn mumbles, staring out the window.

They walk around Pier 39 for a little while, going into all the souvenir shops even though they all sell the same thing. Shawn gets the feeling Niall is trying to cheer him up and appreciates the effort. He’s pretty sure this feeling is going to stick around for a while, though.

When they’re sitting down for dinner, waiting for their food to arrive, Niall’s phone starts ringing.

He briefly glances at Shawn before he answers. “Hello? Yeah, hi.”

Shawn furrows his eyebrows, wondering who he could be talking to and why he’s acting shifty.

“I think that would be great. We’re in the Hard Rock Cafe,” Niall says. “Okay, see you in a sec.”

“Who was that?” Shawn asks when Niall hangs up.

Niall smiles. “You’ll see.”

“Okay,” Shawn replies slowly.

A couple minutes later, someone clears their throat behind Shawn. He turns with a polite smile, expecting the waitress with their food, but it’s definitely not the waitress. The smile falls from Shawn’s face.

“Hi,” Harry says. He looks hesitant, rubbing his palms on his jeans. He pushes his sunglasses up into his hair and sighs. “I'm assuming Niall didn’t tell you I was coming.”

“No,” Shawn says, coughing once, glancing at a semi-guilty Niall. “He did not.”

Harry scratches the back of his neck, unsure. “I can… I can leave?”

Shawn stares at him for a second, at how glum he seems, and sighs. “No, you can stay.”

Harry’s face relaxes and he sits down in the vacant chair to Shawn’s left. “Thank you.”

“I'm glad you made it,” Niall says.

Harry smiles, ducking his head and Shawn isn’t sure, but he thinks Harry is blushing a little. He chooses to ignore it. There’s too much tension in the air already, so Shawn is definitely keeping quiet.

Niall clears his throat. “So!” he breathes. “Today was awkward.”

“Oh my god,” Shawn mutters, pinching the bridge of his nose while Harry and Niall laugh.

“That’s one way to break the ice,” Harry teases.

“Somebody had to do it,” Niall laments, “and I don’t think either of you were gonna be up for it.”

“That’s fair,” Harry and Shawn say at the same time.

Niall grins, pleased, while Harry and Shawn laugh stiltedly, stealing quick glances at each other.

Sometime later, Niall muses aloud, “You definitely can’t deny the resemblance,” as he looks between the two. “He’s got your curls, the tall frame, the smile…”

“Except he has Samantha’s eyes,” Harry says, soft, nostalgic, lost in memory.

Niall gives a sad, half smile. “Yeah. He does.”

Harry looks to Niall, stares for a moment, then asks, “How long were you married?”

“Seven years,” Niall responds. “Not long enough,” he adds with a sigh.

“Samantha was special,” Harry agrees.

“She told me about you,” Shawn interjects into the silence that follows, “When I was little. I must have asked her a thousand questions.”

Harry smiles, a tiny bit bashful. “I regret not reaching out to her now. You’re a great kid, Shawn.”

Shawn swallows back his emotions, says, “I had the best pair of people raising me.”

Harry drops his gaze then, smile going sour at the edges. “If I had known…”

“Oh, no, I didn’t mean—“ Shawn starts, feeling panic crawl it’s way up his throat.

“I know,” Harry assures, but he won’t meet either of their stares. He digs his wallet out of his back pocket, pulling out a few bills and placing them on the table. “I, uh. I’ve gotta go, but thank you for letting me join you for dinner.”

“Da—Harry, wait,” Shawn pleads. Harry falters where he stands, looking so lost for a second it makes Shawn’s chest ache. “I'm sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. I _know_ you didn’t know. But, I… I’d like to get to know you _now_.”

Harry’s expression is torn, like he wants nothing more than to run away and not look back, or to fall back into his chair and never leave, to stay with something he’s always wanted.

“Please?” Shawn adds, his voice cracking embarrassingly.

Biting his lip, Harry is silent for a moment. He looks behind Shawn at Niall and whatever he sees must help him make up his mind, because he sits down again.

“Okay,” he says quietly.

Shawn smiles and Harry can’t help but tentatively smile in return.

Niall suggests they make plans for the following day, if Harry has free time. Harry says yes, that since it’s Sunday he’s got the whole day, and Shawn asks if they can go to the Golden Gate Bridge. They’ll make it a picnic, Harry declares.

Harry asks what they like to eat so he can make it for them, insists when they halfheartedly protest. Niall tells Harry it doesn’t really matter, they’re practically garbage disposals, they’ll eat whatever.

“Dad,” Shawn groans, hiding his face behind his hands. He peeks between his fingers a moment later and asks, “Could you make dessert too?”

“I can,” Harry grins. “You know, I used to work in a bakery.”

“You did?” Shawn asks in interest.

“Well,” Harry hedges, “I worked the register. But I do bake now!”

That makes Niall and Shawn laugh. Harry assures them that he’s quite good, actually.

 

\----

 

They agree to meet at Harry’s store at ten in the morning, figuring they could make their picnic brunch to avoid the lunch traffic as best as they can.

Niall waits a few minutes into their drive back to their hotel before he asks Shawn how he’s feeling. Shawn doesn’t answer right away, looking thoughtful.

“To be honest? I don’t know yet,” he finally says. “It feels too soon to say. I mean, so far, he seems nice… but…”

Niall glances at him then back to the road. “But?” he prompts after Shawn doesn’t continue.

“What if it’s like, a fluke?” Shawn says, releasing a breath. “What if he’s nice now, but is actually an asshole? What if he’s doing all this because he thinks he’ll get something from it?”

Niall pauses, asks, “Don’t you think you’re being a little hard on him?”

Shawn shrugs. “Maybe.”

“I'm not saying let your guard down completely. You should definitely still be cautious,” Niall amends, “but don’t make it to where you won’t allow yourself to open up either.”

“Ugh,” Shawn grunts, slouching in his seat and crossing his arms. “I hate when you’re right.”

Niall laughs. He reaches over and ruffles Shawn’s hair. Shawn bats his hands away, smiling despite himself.

 

\----

 

The next morning, Niall pulls a grumpy-faced Shawn out of bed and shoves clothes at him until he grabs them. Shawn sleepily changes and brushes his teeth, groans dramatically when Niall asks him to brush his hair. 

“Fine,” Niall says, throwing his hands up. “Walk around with bed-head all day. I don’t care.”

“It looks _cool,_  dad,” Shawn mumbles.

Soon enough, they’re on the road and headed toward Harry’s shop. Harry is waiting for them on the steps out front. He waves with a cheery smile when he spots them. 

“He’s too perky this early in the morning,” Shawn bemoans.

Niall rolls his eyes. “It’s 10am. You’ve only been awake for forty-five minutes.” 

“It’s _Sunday_ ,” Shawn retorts with a glare.

“You’ll live,” Niall tells him.

Niall unlocks the doors for Harry to hop into the backseat. He puts the picnic basket in first then clambers in after, folding his long legs to fit the best he can. Niall apologizes for the squeeze, but Harry waves it off with a grin. 

“It’s a beautiful day, isn’t it?” Harry comments. 

“It’s barely even daytime,” Shawn grumbles.

“Someone isn’t a morning person,” Harry teases. “I’ve been awake since 6 this morning. Did my usual run. It’s a good way to start your day.” 

Shawn just blinks at him. Niall muffles his laugh, but Harry hears it. He shrugs, easy-going as ever.

“So, I feel like I remember how to get to the Golden Gate, but could you help me, just in case?” Niall asks.

“Yeah, no problem,” Harry says, leaning forward to give directions.

Shawn tunes them out and closes his eyes in hopes of catching a little more sleep. It’s not long before Niall’s shaking his shoulder to wake him. He rubs at his eyes and yawns, stretching in his seat. 

“Sorry, bud. You can nap later. But hey, we’ve got food,” Niall says.

That has Shawn perking up, which makes Niall and Harry laugh. Harry carries the picnic basket while Niall grabs the table cloth and Shawn shoulders the small cooler of drinks. Thankfully, the picnic table is open and they make quick work of claiming it. After Niall throws the blanket on the table, Harry starts to unload the basket and Shawn’s stomach rumbles.

Harry pulls out cheese and crackers, French toast, breakfast potatoes, blueberry muffins, sandwiches made on what looks like homemade croissants, fresh fruit on skewers (in rainbow order, Shawn notes), and best of all, a container of delicious and colorful looking cupcakes.

Harry points to the croissants, “These are baked ham and cheese sandwiches with a honey mustard glaze. They’re my favorite brunch food.” He waves vaguely at everything else. “I wasn’t sure what you’d like so I went with what I felt like was relatively safe.” 

“Jesus,” Niall mutters, looking at the food with wide eyes. 

“Is this why you were awake at 6am?” Shawn asks in wonder.

Harry shrugs awkwardly, cheeks flushing. “I made the cupcakes last night,” he confesses.

Shawn licks his lips as he peeks into the container. “What kind did you make?”

“Uh,” Harry starts, blush deepening ever so slightly. He fidgets with the hem of his tshirt. “I wasn’t sure what you’d like,” he reiterates. 

“You made an assortment,” Niall guesses, with a half smile. 

“Wow,” Shawn breathes. “They look amazing.”

Harry hides his smile as he digs out the paper plates and cutlery, and Niall grabs them all a bottle of water from the cooler. They pile their plates high, nearly overflowing. Shawn takes a giant bite of French toast and closes his eyes, sighing deeply. 

“I honestly feel like I could cry right now,” he mumbles around his food.

Niall makes a face. “I thought we got passed you talking with your mouth full when you were 9.”

Shawn shakes his head. “Dad. Eat your toast.” 

Dubiously, Niall cuts off a corner of said toast and eats it. He stops chewing almost instantly. “Fuck,” he whispers. 

“Yeah,” Shawn agrees, already stuffing more into his mouth. 

Harry laughs, but he looks pleased as well. He takes smaller, more polite bites of his food. 

They chat about basic things for a while-- _(How old is Shawn? 16. What grade is he in? He’s gonna be a sophomore this year. Does he know what college he wants to go to? Does he_ want _to go to college? Shawn thinks he wants to stay local, but he doesn’t know what he wants to major in yet. Etc.)_ \--but for the last ten minutes Shawn’s eyes have been practically glued to the cupcakes. 

“Would you like to have first pick?” Harry asks with a laugh.

Shawn breaks away from his longing gaze to look at Harry with bright eyes. “Really?” 

“He’s got the biggest sweet tooth. It’s a wonder he doesn’t have rotten teeth,” Niall jokes.

“Oh, like you’re one to talk,” Shawn retorts, crossing his arms over his chest. 

Niall sticks his tongue out at him, and Shawn does it back. Harry watches in amusement. 

“So,” Harry drawls. “Cupcakes?”

“Please,” Shawn replies, scooting closer to pick which one he wants. 

Harry points to each of them as he describes them, “There’s a peach flavored one with peach puree in the middle, apple and cinnamon with homemade whipped cream, my own recipe for strawberry with vanilla bean mixed in the batter, lemon with blueberry icing, death by chocolate, and plain vanilla cake with buttercream.” 

“As long as I can at least get a bite of the strawberry one, I don’t care what I get. They all look so good,” Niall muses.

Shawn takes his time deciding, biting his lip as he looks them all over, weighing his options. After what feels like ages, he reaches in and grabs the peach one. 

“Good choice,” Harry mock whispers. “Oh, the icing is also peach.” 

Harry lets Niall pick next, who scoops up the strawberry and vanilla bean one like it’s going to disappear. Harry takes the lemon and blueberry one and starts peeling the paper off.

Shawn takes a bite, and this time, his eyes actually water. “How do you do this?”

Harry preens. “Years of practice.” He pauses before he takes a bite of his cupcake, tentatively suggesting, “Maybe I could teach you sometime?”

“You’d do that?” Shawn asks with evident excitement. 

“Sure,” Harry grins. 

Shawn gives Niall his best pleading, puppy dog look. Niall rolls his eyes, the implied ‘duh’ loud and clear. Shawn pumps a fist in the air and shoves the rest of his cupcake in his mouth.

“Ca’ I ha’ ano’er?” he mumbles, spewing crumbs everywhere.

Niall facepalms while Harry laughs so hard he nearly falls off the bench. 

On the way back to Harry’s store, there’s a pleasant silence in the air, outside of the radio playing low in the background. Their bellies are full and their bodies are ready for naps. Shawn sneaks a look at Niall, sees that ever so small smile, just dusting the corners of his mouth, and feels like he probably has the same one, hopes Harry does too. 

The song changes on the radio, the beginning notes of Shania Twain’s “You’re Still the One” filling the space of the car.

“Oh man,” Harry sighs. “ _Great_ song.”

Niall hums in agreement.

Quietly, almost to himself, Harry starts singing, “ _Looks like we made it, look how far we’ve come my baby.”_

“ _We might’ve took the long way; we knew we’d get there someday_ ,” Niall sings next.

Shawn tentatively joins in, “ _They said, ‘I bet they’ll never make it._ ’”

Harry and Niall sing in unison, “ _But just look at us holding on._ ” Niall starts to harmonize then. “ _We’re still together, still going strong_.”

And then, like a dam, they all burst out with, “ _You’re still the one I run to, the one that I belong to. You’re still the one I want for life. You’re still the one that I love, the only one I dream of. Still the one I kiss goodnight._ ”

By the time song finishes, they’ve all got wide, goofy grins on their faces. Shawn is flushed in his cheeks from the rush of singing in front of someone other than his dad. Well… one of his dads.

(A strange thought, he muses to himself.)

“You’re very good, Shawn,” Harry praises. “And you as well, Niall. I wouldn’t have expected that.”

“Us? You’re quite good, yourself,” Niall returns, looking in the rearview mirror. “But I will agree that Shawn is amazing. He’s shy, though.” 

“I’m right here, dad,” Shawn cuts in, cheeks red for a different reason now.

Harry tsks. “But you sing so well! Have you not done like, karaoke or something?”

Shawn huffs a laugh. “Yeah, no. Not gonna happen.”

“Oh, come on! It could be fun. Niall, you’d sing if we did karaoke, right?” Harry asks, leaning forward between the front seats. “I know a place, it’s great. We could go tonight!”

Niall shrugs, glancing over at an uncertain Shawn. “I think it sounds fun.”

“I don’t know…” Shawn trails off, uncomfortable. 

Harry thinks for a second, then offers, “How about this—why don’t we go tonight and your dad and I will sing and if you feel up for it, you can join us.” 

Shawn looks between them, at their hopeful and encouraging expressions, and sighs. Harry cheers and reaches between them to crank the volume up on the radio. Niall only smiles as he continues driving. Rolling his eyes, Shawn hides his own smile by turning to look out the window.

They finally get back to the record shop, and Shawn goes inside to use the restroom before he and Niall head back to their hotel. When he gets back to the car, though, there’s a bit of tenseness between Niall and Harry.

“Is everything okay?” Shawn asks slowly, glancing back and forth. 

“Yep,” Niall says, pasting on a smile. “All good.”

“Totally,” Harry agrees. He coughs, looking away. “Right, so, uh. We’ll meet up at the restaurant at 7ish?”

Niall nods. Shawn awkwardly waves to Harry as he walks inside his shop, smiling close-mouthed.

After they’re buckled up and Niall starts the car, Shawn gives him a side-eye. “You gonna tell me what that was about?”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Niall replies airily.

“Sure,” Shawn murmurs, but he doesn’t press it any further.

 

\----

 

After they’ve napped and eaten the leftover cupcakes for a mid afternoon snack, they start getting ready for dinner.

Shawn really wants to ask Niall what happened at Harry’s shop earlier, but he doesn’t think he’d get a straight answer, so he decides it’s best he doesn’t say anything at all. 

Niall walks out of the bathroom holding two shirts at that moment. “Which one?” he asks, putting them up to his chest.

The one on the right is a pale blue short-sleeved button up, and the one on the left is one of his many old band tees. 

“If I wore the blue I’d just pair it with some jeans, yeah? And my grey trousers with the band tee, to dress it up a bit, you know?” Niall explains, examining each shirt with great care. 

Shawn narrows his eyes. “Who are you trying to impress, Pop?”

Niall pauses, going perfectly still. “No one,” he says. “I just… want to look nice, is all.”

Shawn hums, staring his dad down in silence, enjoying watching him squirm, then has mercy on him and says, “Band tee. Wear your converse.”

Niall nods, quickly walking back into the bathroom to get changed.

Yeah, no, Shawn isn’t gonna touch _that_ subject with a ten foot pole. He picks out his own outfit and changes, running his fingers through his air to get it just right. He smells cologne when Niall opens the bathroom door, the expensive stuff, and fails to hide his smirk. Niall pretends to not notice.

 

\----

 

They meet for dinner first, a hole in the wall place Harry swears by, and then walk the couple blocks to _KJ Paul Karaoke_. Harry is practically bouncing where he stands, his smile wide and excited for them to experience this place.

“They’ve got _costumes_ ,” he gushes, “So you can look the part for whatever song you choose to sing.”

“Good god,” Niall mumbles to himself, shaking his head in amusement.

Shawn bites his lip to try and hide his nerves. He feels ridiculous for being anxious about doing karaoke, of all things, but as much as he hates to admit it, Niall was right. He’s shy. 

“I’ll go first,” Harry says, bumping shoulders with Shawn.

It makes Shawn smile gratefully as they head inside. Even though the place is not very big, it’s packed to the brim with eager people waiting their turn to take the stage. Shawn sees the racks of costumes and accessories Harry mentioned, people rifling through them to find their desired look.

They find a table off to the side and settle down to watch for a while. It’s not long before Harry gets up to go put his name on the list, waggling his eyebrows when they ask what song he’s going to sing.

Right now, someone is singing a passionate rendition of Cher’s _Believe_ with so many feather boas on that you can’t see their neck anymore and a pair of giant sunglasses. The guy isn’t really a good singer, but at least he’s on pitch, Shawn thinks. Harry’s been singing along the whole time, which has made Niall laugh a lot.

Finally, they call Harry’s name. He stands, taking a deep breath, saying, “Wish me luck,” as he goes. He grabs a sparkly scarf off the rack and unbuttons his shirt down to his navel, ignoring the few whistles the action attracts. He takes the stage, gripping the microphone and the stand, closing his eyes.

Niall shifts in his seat next to Shawn.

As the music starts, Shawn’s unable to keep a grin from spreading on his face. Harry’s chosen _I Can’t Get No Satisfaction._ When he begins singing, Harry puts on a _show_ , doing a surprisingly good, detailed Mick Jagger impression.

“ _I can’t get no, oh no, no, no_ ,” Harry sings, throwing his arms up then pointing at the crowd.

Niall is cackling, his eyes squeezed shut, nearly doubled over. Shawn’s not much better, though.

Harry prances around the stage, never once breaking his character. Shawn’s honestly very impressed. He’s sad to see it come to an end, but he cheers along with the rest of the crowd when Harry finishes. 

There’s a fine sheen of sweat on Harry’s face and chest when he makes it back to their table, buttoning his shirt back up as he sits down with a beaming grin. “Did you like it?” he asks, wiping at his forehead. 

“That was probably one of the best things I’ve ever witnessed,” Shawn confesses with a snicker. 

“You’re too good at that,” Niall adds, cheeks flushed from laughter. 

“People used to tell me I looked like Mick Jagger when I was younger,” Harry tells them. “Thought I’d make good use of it.”

Niall shakes his head, downing the rest of his drink before he stands. “I’m gonna go put myself on the list now.” 

Harry gives him a high five as he walks by. A few people stop at their table to tell Harry how great he was. He tells them thank you, but Shawn can see it’s making him flush a little.

“You gonna go up?” Harry asks once it’s just them and Niall’s returned. 

Shawn looks up at the stage, at the girl screaming the lyrics to Ariana Grande, then at the people cheering her on. “I’m still not sure,” he says. “It looks like fun, and the atmosphere is cool, but…”

Harry tilts his head in understanding. “We’ll hang out a little while longer, in case you change your mind,” he replies.

It’s not long before Niall is called up. Shawn has a feeling he knows what song he’s about to do.

Sure enough, _Life in the Fast Lane_ starts. Harry looks impressed with the choice.

Niall doesn’t do much at first, sings with his hands in his pockets, swaying a little, but he gets into it more and more.

He takes the mic off the stand as he sings, “ _They had one thing in common, they were good in bed_ ,” and a few people whistle loudly at him. He smirks, “ _She’d say, ‘Faster, faster. The lights are turnin’ red.’”_

Shawn looks over to see Harry’s reaction, tamps down the loud burst of laughter threatening to escape him, because Harry looks as if he’s swallowed his tongue. He turns back to watch Niall, then groans when he sees him doing… _things_ … with his hips. It’s making all the women squeal. Shawn wants to die.

Much to Shawn’s surprise (or horror, to be honest), Niall put on a good performance. Harry certainly thinks so too, whistling louder than anyone as Niall leaves the stage.

“Bleach! I need bleach for my eyes,” Shawn wails when Niall plops down in his seat.

“Oh, shut up,” Niall says, laughing.

“That was... “ Harry starts, coughing once, “Wow. You were great.”

Niall only smiles. 

This is too much for Shawn. His dads are flirting, right in front of him. 

“You guys should duet,” he blurts.

“ _What_ ,” they both say, eyes wide, heads turning so quickly Shawn thinks he hears their necks cracking.

“Duet? Like on a song,” he explains. 

They relax, laughing lightly, trying not to look at each other.

“Oh,” Niall says. 

Harry shrugs. “I’m in.”

“But,” Shawn cuts in, smirking, “I get to pick the song.”

They both grin, agreeing, so Shawn heads over to put their names down and his song choice. This’ll be fun, he thinks. He knows Niall loves the song, and hopefully Harry does, but most people at least know the chorus. They’re called up shortly after. Shawn claps for them as they walk up, opting for no costumes and going straight for the mics.

When the music begins, they smile at each other. Harry gestures for Niall to start first, then he joins in. 

“ _You can go your own way_ ,” Harry sings.

 

“ _Go your own way_ ,” Niall echoes.

The whole time they sing, they have big, goofy grins. Shawn feels like this could be dangerous, his step-dad and biological dad getting cozy, but he strangely wants to do everything he can to not wipe those stupid smiles off either of their faces. Niall hasn’t smiled like that since… And, well, he feels like Harry deserves to smile like that too.

Harry does his Mick Jagger impression again at one point, sending Niall into a fit of laughter so hard he has to stop singing. It makes Harry grin delightedly. 

They’re moving all over the stage, their mic cords getting tangled, and Harry isn’t paying much attention to it. He’s dragging his mic stand behind him as he sings, and, unfortunately, it gets caught on a loose piece of wood sticking up slightly on the stage. He tries to catch his balance, but he ultimately goes toppling to the floor with a loud bang. It feels like Shawn watches the whole thing happen in slow motion. 

For a moment, there’s almost dead silence, except for the music still playing. But then Harry starts laughing, and then Niall is, then the whole room is loud with it. Shawn breathes a sigh of relief, clutching at his chest. 

Niall helps Harry up and asks if he’s alright through his laughter.

“Physically, I’m fine,” Harry announces to the room at large, “Emotionally… I’m bruised.”

“Are you sure you’re alright?” Shawn asks as soon as Harry and Niall have returned to their seats.

Harry huffs. “I’ve had worse falls, believe it or not.” He nudges Shawn with his elbow, winking. “I’m fine. Promise.” 

“Oh, by the way,” Niall says suddenly, “I signed you up. You’re next.” 

Shawn blinks. “Huh?” 

Niall smiles serenely. “I think after what we just did, it wouldn’t be so bad for you to get up there.” 

Shawn’s stomach turns a little, nerves settling in uncomfortably. But… it really can’t be _that_ bad, right? His name is called and he feels faint. He swallows roughly, rising from his seat and taking a few steps toward the stage. He stops as he remembers, “Wait, what song did you choose?” 

“I love you, son,” is all Niall says, which is not helpful _or_ encouraging.

As he stands on the stage, he’s thankful that the lights mostly blur all the faces watching him. He crosses his arms over his chest and waits for the music to start. When it does, he pinches the bridge of his nose, hearing Niall’s cackle from the back of the room. Shawn decides to suck it up and starts singing. 

“ _You’re on the phone with your girlfriend, she’s upset_ ,” he sings, monotone out of spite.

The crowd cheers him on, though, and when he gets to the chorus, he drops the monotone and sings for real. 

“ _If you could see that I’m the one who understands you, been here all along, so why can’t you see? You belong with me_.”

His confidence builds, not a whole lot, but he gets a little more comfortable and holds on to the mic stand. He feels a surge of adrenaline course through him, feels like he can go for it, and he finds that he’s having _fun._  And look, Shawn loves to sing, really, it’s just that he’s more of a audience-of-one kinda guy, and that audience is usually his showerhead, or sometimes Niall. 

But this… This is _new_ , and _exciting,_  and _terrifying_.

When he’s done, he searches for Harry’s and Niall’s faces through the cheering crowd, sees them jumping and hollering for him, and he smiles so wide it hurts his cheeks. He accepts the claps on the back and high fives from everyone as he makes his way to their table. Niall hugs him tight, telling Shawn he’s proud of him. Harry hugs him too, says he was amazing. Shawn is absolutely buzzing with happiness.

They decide to leave not long after that. It’s getting late, and Niall and Shawn are leaving tomorrow. They promise Harry they’ll stop by before they drive back to Woodland. 

Back at their hotel, Shawn goes to sleep with a smile on his face. He’s sure Niall has a matching one.

 

\----

 

The next morning feels a little solemn. Shawn doesn’t want to go home now, even though he knows they have to. He knows that Harry will stay in touch with them, though. He just hopes that they’ll get to visit again soon.

When they get to Harry’s shop, he’s already waiting near the door. He’s got a sad smile that Niall and Shawn mirror.

“I’ll add you on Facebook, yeah?” Harry suggests. “And get your numbers too.” 

“Please do,” Shawn murmurs.

Harry pulls him into a fierce hug, and Shawn falls into it easily. They grip each other tightly, faces buried in the other’s shoulder. Reluctantly, Harry lets go, squeezing Shawn’s arms before letting his own drop. His eyes are suspiciously misty.

“Come back and see me,” he pleads. “Or I can come see you all. Whichever way. Okay?” 

Shawn nods, hopes his eyes aren’t watering as bad as they feel like they are. Harry hugs Niall then, a quick but no less meaningful embrace, and waves them off.

The car is silent for a long while after they leave. Shawn knows he’ll see Harry again, but he wasn’t ready for their time together to come to an end. It went by too fast. He barely scratched the surface of getting to know who his father is. What he did find out was great, and he’s sure Niall enjoyed it as well. 

Shawn isn’t naive, though. He knows there’ll be bumps in the road eventually. No one is perfect, and that includes Harry. 

The biggest worry floating around Shawn’s brain, however, is that something awful will happen and ruin his chance at having a connection with the man he’s wanted in his life since he was a kid. That’s not to say that he doesn’t love Niall. Niall is always going to be his dad, no matter what happens with Harry. Shawn just wants to have both.

He thinks about the weird, roundabout flirting Niall and Harry were doing all weekend, the stares when they think the other isn’t looking, the way they got along so easily and quickly, and feels a tiny spark of hope light up in his chest, but he shields it, in case that falls apart. He’ll do everything he can to make sure it doesn’t, though. 

Shawn’s phone beeps with a notification half an hour into the drive. He can’t help but huff a laugh when he sees it’s a friend request from Harry. 

For now, Shawn thinks to himself, everything is good.

 

\----

 

It’s been three weeks since Niall and Shawn went to San Francisco. Shawn was itching to go back the moment they arrived back in Woodland. But then Niall, unhelpfully, pointed out that he had to be “responsible” and go to work and pay bills. Being an adult is dumb, Shawn’s decided. 

They kept in touch, like they promised, and Shawn’s loved every single conversation he’s had with Harry. He even started a group chat for the three of them and finds immense joy in sending memes that confuse his dads. 

He learned a lot about Harry in these three weeks. Like how Harry loves guacamole, but hates avocado toast; that he inherited the record shop from an old man he befriended when he was younger; he’s never been married, even though he’s dated a few people he thought he could have had a future with; and perhaps the most interesting and emotionally confusing thing of all, how Harry had almost come back to Woodland when he was 18, but ended up not making the trip when his step-dad got sick. 

Shawn had first felt regret when he found that out, wondered what would have happened had Harry shown up and found Shawn’s mom with his baby. But then he felt guilty, because then he wouldn’t have Niall as his dad, and that’s more distressing than Shawn cares to admit. 

Then there’s the relationship between Niall and Harry. It’s… special. Shawn knows they text privately. He expected it, honestly. But not quite like this. 

As much as Niall likes to complain about Shawn’s eyes being glued to his phone, Shawn is observant. He sees how Niall will smile down at his phone like an idiot, how his mood has changed, in a good way. He snuck a glance at Niall’s phone screen one day, the curiosity eating him alive, and sees the flirting going on in the texts and almost wishes he hadn’t looked at all. 

It’s great and nauseating at the same time. 

But… it’s been _three weeks_. He wants to see Harry again, and he knows Niall does too.

 

\----

 

He’s been at home all day by himself today. Niall had jetted off to work, not waking Shawn up before he left like he normally does, and when Shawn called him at lunch to ask about it, Niall gave him a lame excuse about why he couldn’t talk. So. Shawn is curious. Niall should be home soon, though. Shawn can pester him about it then. 

At 6:00pm, he hears Niall’s keys in the door and trots down the stairs to greet him. But it’s not Niall who steps through the threshold. 

Shawn stops dead in his tracks, eyes going impossibly wide and his mouth drops open in shock. 

“Hey,” Harry says with a beaming grin.

“What--how did you--when--” Shawn stutters, unmoving.

Niall walks in behind Harry then, smiling in excitement. “Surprise!”

It jolts Shawn into action, his legs carrying right into Harry’s open arms, clutching him close like he’ll disappear. Harry’s laugh is loud in Shawn’s ear, but he couldn’t care less.

“Is this why you were acting so freaking shady all day?” Shawn asks Niall, still holding on to Harry.

“You know I’m bad at secrets,” Niall defends himself. “I couldn’t talk to you or I’d have given everything away. Harry wanted to surprise you.” 

“Well I am!” Shawn laughs, pulling back, but letting Harry’s arm stay wrapped around his shoulder.

Harry’s brow furrows. “Have you grown since I saw you last? I swear you weren’t this tall.”

Shawn shrugs as Niall says, “He has. I know because I’ve had to buy him new jeans since his others got too short for him to wear.” Niall sighs dramatically. “His long legs doing a number on my bank account.”

“Oh,” Harry says, looking thoughtful. “You know, I could help out.”

Niall immediately waves off the offer. “Nah, you don’t have to do that. It’s fine.”

Harry rolls his eyes. “I know I don’t _have_ to,” he says. “I want to. He is my kid, too, after all.”

Niall bites the inside of his cheek, thinking it over. Shawn knows he’s probably uncomfortable with the idea of Harry helping financially, because he’s prideful that way sometimes and doesn’t like accepting help unless it’s absolutely necessary. Now, though, it’s a bit more tricky. Niall can’t exactly say _no_ to Harry since he’s Shawn’s biological father, but he clearly wants to, judging by the growing pinched look on his face.

“I’m not trying to take away anything from you, Niall,” Harry says, soft, earnest. “I just want to help.”

That makes Niall let go of the breath he was holding, shoulders drooping in defeat. “Alright.” 

There’s a beat, then Shawn wonders aloud, “Are we ever going to have _non_ -awkward first meetings?”

It effectively breaks the tension in the room, Niall muttering, “Jesus Christ,” under his breath as he laughs, and Harry giggles into Shawn’s shoulder.

“Go grab his bags from his car, you heathen,” Niall says, pointing towards the door. 

“Fine,” Shawn groans, feigning annoyance, dodging the smack Niall aimed at the back of his head with a laugh.

When he’s back inside, he sees Niall moving around the kitchen, grabbing pots and pans to cook dinner, and Harry leaning against a bar stool with his eyes glued to Niall’s butt. He snorts as he carries the bags up the stairs to the guest room. His dads are idiots.

 

\----

 

After dinner, they’re sitting at the table, their plates empty and bellies full. The conversation has jumped from topic to topic, flowing easily. Shawn’s sides ache from laughing so hard at some of the stories they’ve all shared. 

Harry’s just finished telling them about some of his tattoos. All Niall could do was shake his head in bemusement about “BIG” being on Harry’s big toe. 

“You do realize tattoos are pretty permanent, right?” Niall teases.

Harry shrugs with an easy smile. “Yeah. But sometimes it’s fun to be spontaneous and get something silly tattooed on yourself. I mean, they obviously make great stories.” 

“Obviously,” Niall repeats sarcastically.

“How bad do they hurt?” Shawn asks, looking at Harry’s arms.

Harry hums. “Depends on your pain tolerance, I guess.”

“Don’t get any ideas, Shawn,” Niall warns as he stands, gathering their plates. He raises his eyebrows. “Tattoos are a definite no for a long time for you.”

Shawn rolls his eyes, but as Niall walks over to the sink, Harry glances at Shawn and sends him conspiratorial wink. Shawn hides his grin by taking a large gulp of water from his glass.

“So!” he says, clearing his throat. “How long are you staying?” 

“I’m not sure,” Harry replies, looking at Niall, who shrugs.

“Doesn’t matter to me. Stay however long you’d like,” he says.

Shawn looks to Harry, expectant, bouncing his knee is anxious excitement.

Harry takes a deep breath, rubbing at his chin. “Ah, well,” he starts. He shrugs. “Guess we’ll play it by ear then.”

“Cool,” Shawn says, biting back the million questions about what all they could do while he’s here.

 

\----

 

(That night, Shawn thinks he hears the door to the guest room open followed shortly by a tentative knock on Niall’s door. It’s late, though, and he’s half asleep, so he isn’t sure if he was just hearing things.)

 

\----

 

The next few days are filled with Harry and Shawn hanging around town while Niall works. Harry likes to see what’s changed and what’s stayed exactly the same, and Shawn loves listening to the memories he shares about each place or person he sees.

One day, they decide to stay in. Shawn digs through the closet in the guest room until he finds the box filled with photo albums he’d been searching for. They spend hours hunched over each album, laughing over Shawn’s naked baby pictures, tearing up when they find some of Samantha. Harry traces a finger along the edge of one of them. She’s pregnant in the shot, showing off her belly and smiling wide for the camera. He swallows roughly, doesn’t say anything, but Shawn thinks he has an idea of what he’s feeling.

Once the weekend hits, Harry asks Niall if he’d like to go get a drink, just the two of them. Shawn makes shooing motions when Niall goes to ask if it’s alright. Shawn doesn’t see much of them that weekend, but he’s alright with it.

When it’s been nearly a whole week, Harry wakes Shawn up and tells him they’re going to get tattoos. 

“Wha...?” Shawn mumbles, rubbing sleep from his eyes.

“Tattoos!” Harry exclaims, jumping up on the bed and making it bounce. “I made appointments for us at a place in town.” 

“But…” Shawn starts, brows furrowing. His brain is still waking up--this is a lot for him to process so early in the morning. “What about dad? Won’t he be mad?” 

“Don’t worry about that. I’ll handle it,” Harry promises.

Shawn hesitates. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t _have_ to,” Harry amends, hopping back down to the floor. He grins mischievously. “But think how _cool_ it would be to be the first of your friends to have a tattoo.” 

That makes Shawn crack a smile. “Okay,” he finally concedes. “Nothing big though!” 

Harry holds his hands up in a placating manner. “Entirely your decision on what you want to get.”

“What are you getting done?” Shawn wonders. 

“S’a secret,” he responds, cheeks pinking up ever so slightly as he walks out of Shawn’s room. “Get ready!”

After Shawn gets dressed, he rummages through his nightstand to find something specific. For a terrifying split second, he thinks he’s lost it, but then he finds it under an old iPhone box he should have thrown away ages ago. Then Harry’s knocking on his door and asking if he’s ready, and they’re off to a tattoo parlor.

 

\----

 

He manages to keep his tattoo from Niall for approximately one day. Harry told him that, for now, he should probably not tell Niall, until Harry can figure out how to break it to him.

Well. Turns out, he won’t have to. Shawn does it all on his own. On accident, too.

He’d been warned from just about everyone in the parlor that getting a tattoo on his ribs would be very painful, but he was adamant that it be there. The pain was intense, as promised, but it’s perfect and Shawn doesn’t think he’d change anything about it or the experience. Harry teared up when he saw what Shawn was getting and held his hand the whole time.

He’s just gotten out of the shower and his rubbing the cream the tattoo artist gave him on his tender skin. There’s a knock and before he shift away from the door or put a shirt on, Niall is walking in.

“How long does it take you to sho--” Niall is asking, stopping when he sees Shawn staring, panicked, with his arm raised as he rubs in cream.

It’s quiet for a long moment. Shawn can hear his heart beating in his ears. Niall’s eyes are glued to Shawn’s hand where it’s partially covering the tattoo.

Niall’s voice is low, too calm, when he finally asks, “What the fuck is that.”

Shawn swallows, dropping his arm and turning to fully face Niall. He opens his mouth, but he can’t even begin to wonder how to explain why he got a tattoo without Niall’s permission. Instead, he stares helplessly at his dad, who won’t look him in the eye. Niall is clearly trying his best to stay calm. Shawn feels like shit.

He _knew_ … Niall said no. He shouldn’t have done it, but…

He did it anyway.

“I’m sorry,” Shawn whispers, desperate.

Niall huffs a humorless laugh. “ _Sorry_?” he repeats incredulously. “Shawn, I specifically said _no tattoos_. You’re sixteen, for fuck’s sake. You are _nowhere near_ old enough to get a fucking tattoo. Who even let you…” He trails off, his face contorting from bewilderment to understanding. He clenches his jaw. “Harry,” he says.

Shawn pauses. “ _Please_ don’t be angry with him,” he says, taking a step forward.

“No, you don’t get to ask me that. Not when you both have deliberately gone behind my back about this,” Niall retorts, storming off. 

Shawn races after him, pulling his tshirt on as he thunders down the stairs.

“What the fuck were you thinking?” Niall is demanding when Shawn finds him and Harry in the kitchen. 

Harry’s got a glass of water halfway to his mouth, his expression confused. “What are you talking about?”

“ _You_ taking my son to get a tattoo without talking to me about it first!” Niall says, his face going red. 

That sentence makes Harry’s face close off. “I didn’t realize I needed to ask his _step-_ father for permission,” he replies coolly, sitting his glass on the counter and crossing his arms over his chest.

“Shawn,” Niall says, “I need to speak with Harry alone.”

“But--” Shawn starts. 

“ _Shawn_.”

With dread sitting heavily in his stomach, Shawn makes his way toward the stairs. He doesn’t go up them, though. He feels like he needs to hang around and make sure they don’t kill each other.

After a moment, Niall finally speaks again.

“I explicitly said no tattoos. You went behind my back anyway.” He pauses, then continues. “He’s _sixteen_ years old, Harry. He’s a child.”

“I was seventeen when I got my first tattoo,” Harry defends. 

“Good for you! But that’s not how I want to raise my son,” Niall presses. “I don’t care if he wants tattoos, I just wanted him to be an adult where he can weigh the pros and cons _maturely_ , instead of acting on impulse.” 

“Is that supposed to be a dig at me?” Harry asks, voice rising. “And newsflash, Niall: he’s _my_ son, too. Shouldn’t I get a say in this? Did you even look at what he got?”

“Yeah, newsflash, huh? Has that clicked with you yet? You’re a _father_ now, Harry! You can’t just do whatever you want anymore,” Niall says. “You have to be the mature one, you have to make sure he grows up like a good fucking person, that he learns to live his life with as little regret as possible. Letting him get a fucking tattoo, however small it may be, when he is a _teenager_ is irresponsible.”

“I didn’t sign up for this, though, did I?” Harry bursts, yelling. “No one asked me if I wanted to become a dad! This was all sprung on me, Niall.”

It’s quiet then. Shawn does his best to ignore the tears threatening to spill over, his heart breaking. 

“We told you,” Niall says, slowly, “We told you, at the beginning, you didn’t have to be part of this. I know I’m just his step-father, but I would sell my soul to the devil for that boy. He lost his mother, Harry. All he wanted was to meet you, to meet the one person left who’s tied to him by blood.” 

“Don’t throw that in my face. I’ve tried my best, Niall. I didn’t know I had a son out there for _sixteen_ years and then one day he shows up in my shop. I’ve missed almost all the important milestones; all the birthdays, all the scraped knees and lost teeth. _You_ got all of that. I’m doing my fucking best.”

Shawn walks hastily back into the room then, the tears falling freely now. His hands are shaking. He’s angry. Hurt. Disappointed. 

“Well, the good news is that you don’t have to be around for anymore of the milestones. If it’s so hard for you to be around now, then don’t worry about it. I’ve _had_ a father for sixteen years already anyway,” Shawn says before he can lose his nerve. His voice cracks and he knows there’s snot running down his nose, but he doesn’t care anymore. 

“Shawn…” Harry says, looking distraught.

“Please leave,” he whispers, turning to actually go up to his room, making sure to slam the door and lock it when he enters. 

He hears Harry come up the stairs to gather his things, hears him knock on the door and call his name, but Shawn just turns his music up louder to drown him out. He falls asleep crying.

During the next couple days, Niall tries to get him to open his door, says they should talk. Shawn doesn’t reply and Niall sighs, leaving him alone. Shawn feels stupid. He thought everything was going great. He thought things were perfect again. He had a _family_ again.

It’s like the world was teasing him with something he could never actually have. And once he got a taste of what it could have been like…

He wishes he hadn’t met Harry, if it means he wouldn’t be trying to mend a broken heart. 

Shawn knows Niall is probably having to do the same thing, and he wants to comfort him, but he isn’t sure he knows how. This isn’t like when they lost Shawn’s mom. They aren’t having to mourn the death of someone they loved. Shawn and Niall comforted each other then, holding on to one another and crying as long as they needed, until all they _could_ do was move on and keep the memory of her in their hearts. 

Harry isn’t dead. He just left. 

...After Shawn told him to.

That thought makes him bury his face in his pillow, letting out a loud groan. He rolls over and stares at the ceiling with a sigh. He has to talk to Niall now.

He finds him in his office. Niall’s elbows are resting on his desk, face in his hands. Shawn hates the sight.

He clears his throat to get Niall’s attention. 

Niall startles. He looks up and sees Shawn, surprised. “Hey,” he says softly. 

“Hey,” Shawn replies, just as soft.

They stare at each other for a moment, and then it’s like a dam breaks. Niall is up and rushing over to meet Shawn halfway and embrace him, holding on tightly, letting Shawn cry silently into his neck.

“I’m sorry,” Shawn is saying, over and over.

“Shh, stop, it’s okay,” Niall says, pulling away only to wipe at Shawn’s eyes. “I overreacted a little, and _I’m_ sorry, alright?”

“I should have told Harry no,” Shawn replies.

Niall bends a little until he catches Shawn’s eye. “It’s okay. Alright?”

Shawn nods, unable to say anything else.

“Do you want to show me what it is?” Niall asks after a minute.

“If you want,” Shawn mumbles.

“Well, I might as well get used to it, huh?” Niall jokes lightly. 

Shawn’s lips lift up a little. He wipes at his eyes and sighs. He pulls up the corner of his shirt to show Niall his tattoo.

Niall makes a sound in the back of his throat when he sees it, his eyes filling up with fresh tears. “Shawn…” 

On Shawn’s ribs, in his mother’s handwriting, is, “ _Love you always, Mom.”_

“I saved a note she left in my lunchbox one time. Always had the idea to get it as a tattoo,” Shawn whispers thickly, letting his shirt drop back in place.

Niall swallows, wiping at his eyes, laughing wetly. “It’s perfect, son.”

“I have about twenty other ideas for tattoos,” Shawn says, laughing when Niall looks up sharply at him. He sobers, clearing his throat. “We, uh. We gotta figure out what to do about Harry, dad.”

Niall sighs. “I know.”

So, they come up with a plan.

 

\----

 

Niall and Shawn are standing outside Harry’s shop again, staring inside at Harry moving around, going about shutting the store down for the night.

“Well, let’s do it,” Niall says, nudging Shawn toward the door.

The door jingles above their heads as they enter. 

“We’re closing, sorry,” Harry says, not bothering to turn around as he sweeps the floor.

“Could you make an exception just this once?” Shawn asks.

Harry whirls around, eyes wide. He looks like shit, to put it lightly. He has dark circles under his eyes, his hair a mess, and he’s wearing sweatpants. It’s not a way Shawn thought he’d ever see Harry. 

“What are you doing here?” he asks, careful. 

Shawn bites his lip, looking at Niall. “We… We fucked up.”

“ _Language_ , Shawn, god,” Niall mutters, pinching the bridge of his nose.

It looks like Harry wants to smile, but he’s holding back. Shawn hates it. 

“Look, I don’t regret my tattoo, not one bit. But I do regret hiding it from dad. That was wrong,” Shawn says. 

“And I should have tried to keep my cool better about the situation,” Niall adds.

Harry shakes his head. “No, I--I shouldn’t have asked Shawn to hide it, and I should have run it by you first. I’m his dad, yeah, but… So are you. I’m sorry.”

“Dad,” Shawn says, waiting for Harry to catch on that he means him. When he does, Harry looks like he’s close to crying. “I’m sorry for what I said. I do want you around. For as long as possible.” 

“I’m sorry, too,” Niall says. “I was unfair in how I spoke to you. I felt threatened by you. He’d wanted to meet you before he even knew me, but then he was mine. So when he asked to meet you, I tried to be chill about it, honestly. But… here you came, being cooler than I could ever hope to be and stealing his attention away. I felt like I was being replaced, even though, technically, I’d done that to _you_ without realizing it. I’m truly sorry, Harry.” 

“I… I don’t know what to say,” Harry whispers.

Shawn shoves his hands in his pockets. “You don’t have to say anything,” he replies. He bites the inside of his cheek, glancing at Niall quickly before adding, “I would just like to put this out there, though.” He coughs, feeling awkward. “I, uh. I know you guys were getting… _close._ ” Harry and Niall look at each other, alarmed, but their eyes flit around the room just as quickly. “I want you to know that I support you. I honestly don’t think there could be a better outcome than to have both of my dads together. In a romantic way.”

They look at each other, shy now, but hopeful. 

“Just, _please_ , spare me the details,” he begs.

That finally makes Harry laugh. Niall is smiling and taking a small step forward.

“Hug it out?” He asks them.

Harry and Shawn are wrapping their arms around him in an instant.

Shawn knows there are going to be more struggles on their journey, but he thinks that they’re ready for anything now. They can get through it.


End file.
